It had stopped raining by the time they stepped out of Kennedy’s apartment. “Did you walk here in the rain?” she asked him, looking up at the sky. There was still a strange tension between the two of them that they were both actively ignoring.

“No.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Aren’t you cold, without a coat?”

“No,” he said shortly, then began walking without looking back to see if she followed him. She did, tense and nervous. They ended up taking the subway, which was incredibly surreal with him. People milled around him, paying him no mind as if he weren’t there. His ability to blend into his surroundings so completely that no one but her noticed him still surprised her, though it probably shouldn’t anymore. The trip was awkward and uncomfortable, his silence a wall between them.

They were on the street again, a block from his apartment when he finally spoke to her. She was so uncomfortably nervous that she jumped even though he spoke softly. “Do you…you do not have to come with me if it is not what you desire.”

“Huh? What?” she asked, confused. “Of course I want to go with you. I just don’t want to be a burden!”

“You are not a burden, you could never be a burden to me. Why do I not have your trust?” he said, pain in his tone. He walked a few paces ahead of her, his gait hurried. She was almost jogging to keep up with him.

“I trust you!” she exclaimed passionately, tears stinging her eyes again. He thought she didn’t trust him? She didn’t understand what he was saying.

“I understand why you would call your mother before me. I do not understand why you would not answer your phone, or the feelings you have been peppering the air with since my arrival. The anxiety you feel. Have I done something to-”
It dawned on her, how her emotions must seem to him. “No, no, no, Win,” she insisted quickly, cutting him off. “Please, I…I don’t want you to think…don’t want you to…” she trailed off, trying, and failing, to think of a way to explain it to him without sounding stupid. Why were words so hard?

“Seneca?” He breathed her name, sounding hurt.

“Stop, Godwin, please, stop,” she panted, trying to grab his hand. He pulled it away quickly and it hurt something inside her. His grimace deepened. He stopped, though, turning around to face her.

“Godwin, I don’t want you to think I’m as weak and pathetic as…as I really am. I’m pathetic, but I wanted…I didn’t want you to see me like this, it’s embarrassing. Humiliating. Kennedy knows me, knows what I’m like. I can’t lose you, Win, couldn’t bear it if you left me because I’m me,” she admitted, her throat tight with anxiety. “Because I’m a mess.”

He pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly, his desert touch comforting beyond words. “Never, hansa. I cannot bear your fear stemming from me. Come home with me, Seneca. I will deal with your previous…repast harassing our Josh, but for now, stay with me. You are not an embarrassment because of your emotions.”

“I’m weak, pathetic.”

“You are no such thing,” he told her. “You are strong, but you have been wounded, physically and emotionally. Allow me to support you while you heal, hansa, for that is something I can do for you.”

She was full-on crying, sobs wracking her body. Even so, she buried her face into Godwin’s shoulder and he held her as she sobbed, apparently not worried about her snot and tears staining his light grey suit. He picked her up and she didn’t fight it as he carried her into his apartment building.

The second flight of stairs had him limping and she wiggled, trying to force him to put her down. She wouldn’t let him hurt himself because she was a crybaby. He resisted her stubbornly. “Put me down, Win. I can walk. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I-” he began, but she narrowed her tear-filled eyes at him and he put her down.

“Please, let me have this. I don’t want you to hurt because of me, Godwin.”

He nodded, then led her further up the steps. When they reached the third floor, the scents and sounds of his apartment building accosted her, causing her to stumble. It was too warm, too loud, there were too many smells, all pushing at her from all sides. She swayed and Godwin caught her by the arm, then pulled her into his body, rushing them through the hallway, a frown on his beautiful, islander features.

He pushed his hand against his door and a minute later he was lowering her into the comfortable cushions, the smells and sounds instantly gone when the door clicked shut. She sighed in relief, holding him tightly, refusing to let him go.

“Stay, Godwin, please,” she begged, looking into his silvery eyes. They looked almost normal. That wouldn’t do. She wanted to make them those beautiful and haunting silver orbs. Her other hand clamped down on the sleeve of his light grey suit coat even as she leaned back into the cushion behind her. “Please.”

Emotion rippled over his face, then he sank to his knees before her. “I would remove my jacket and shoes first, then, if I may, I would like to consume your excess emotions,” he told her, looking into her eyes.

“Okay,” she breathed, though she still hesitated before she released him. He leaned back, sliding his suit coat from his shoulders and off his back in a slick motion. It disappeared before it hit the ground. He crawled forward until he was straddling her lap, wincing with the weight on his left knee, pushing his shoes off with opposite feet.

Her loins clenched needily, which just made her feel even worse. Why was she like this? She opened the box inside herself and shoved hard, trying to put away all of her negativity. Before she could react, Godwin had her chin in his hands. He leaned in, settling down on her lap, then closed his mouth over hers. At first she couldn’t react as he spooled her emotions up for her, his tongue dipping into her mouth.

Her toes clenched with the force of his kiss as he pulled her bad emotions from her. If she hadn’t have already been leaning back on the cushions she would have swooned. His warm hands wrapped around her neck and he kissed her, feeding from her, freeing her from her emotions. She kissed him back, moaning into his mouth as she felt lighter by the second.

She fed him eagerly, so glad to be rid of the weight of her guilt and depression. After a while he shifted, his weight a comfortable pressure in her lap. Without breaking their kiss he twisted off of her, slickly pulling her into his lap. She wiggled until his hard manhood was a comfortable pressure between her legs, then she wiggled some more, enjoying the feel of him pressed against her.

Chuckling, he licked her eyeteeth, dropping her fangs almost instantly. She pulled away, covering her mouth with her hand reflexively. “Not fair! It’s not fair when you do that, Win!”

“Hansa,” he breathed out, his eyes now pure silver pools twisting and stretching her desire, “I know you desire to bite me. Do not restrain yourself. I enjoy your bite as much as I enjoy feeding from you.”

She turned away from him and he leaned in, pressing his face into her neck. He kissed her, his lips brushing the tender flesh erotically. She moaned and he bit her with his sharp demon teeth, not breaking the skin but enough to make her gasp.

“Bite me, Seneca. Let me calm you, let us feel one another. Not feeling you today, not knowing where you were, it drove me to madness with worry,” he breathed against her neck.

“Don’t give me false hope, Godwin. Don’t give me a glimpse of what I want only to take it away later, it’s not fair.” Despite her words, she didn’t push him away.

He bit her again, teasing the tender flesh of her neck with his predatory teeth. “I care for you, Seneca. You wear my collar. We have only one, SynLilin, one collar we make when we are students. One collar, bound to our blood, only one collar that we may share with another.”

She couldn’t fight the oily jealousy in her veins. “Did Stanis wear this before me?” she snapped, regretting it instantly but needing to know. Why was she so stupid, why didn’t she know when to keep her mouth shut. She really didn’t want to know, couldn’t stand how jealous it would make her if Stanis had worn it. It didn’t matter, not really, but she felt special when he asked her to wear it. She felt so right, so good. Did…was it something he gave away so easily?

Godwin pulled away so that he could look her in the eyes. Her words had hurt him, it was obvious on his face. “No, Seneca. You are the only one who has worn my collar, or ever will.” He looked at her, his silver eyes so deep and full, then he looked away, pushing himself off of her lap. She knew she had said something she shouldn’t have, but she didn’t know what, she didn’t know enough, but she knew she had hurt him.

“I need…I need time to think, Seneca. Perhaps you could spend this time with our Josh?” he said, moving across the room.

She was on her feet and across the room in a second, surprising herself with her speed. If she let him leave something would change between them, she would lose something, something important. She couldn’t let that happen, not if she could help it. He stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his waist, but he stopped moving.

“Godwin, please, I don’t know what I said that hurt you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know about at all incubus. If I let you go, I can’t, Win. I can’t let you go, don’t leave, please. I’m sorry, whatever I said, I’m sorry.” Her tears were back, and she bother to fight them. “I’m sorry for whatever I did. I’m sorry I’m like this. But, please, I’m begging you, please don’t go. If you leave…you’re too important to me. I need you.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to continue. “I know you think I can’t love you, but I do. You’re all I think about. I want to know more about you, but I don’t want to seem clingy. I don’t want to push you away, yet everything I have done today, it feels like that’s all I know how to do.”

“You did not trust me,” he whispered, his body ramrod stiff.

“Godwin, I trust you. I do. I didn’t want you to see me like this, to know I’m like this, unloveable. I trust you, I do. How else can I prove it to you? I obey you, always,” she insisted, pressing herself against his warm back, her face pressed against his crisp white shirt.

“You thought…Stanis,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how it works! I’m so jealous of anything else that takes your attention. What do you do for days between our play? It eats me alive, needing to know but not asking, not wanting to know, but wanting to know. It eats me alive, Win. I know you need to feed, but it makes me so jealous I could die. I don’t ask you about it, because I won’t be that needy, selfish girl to you. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” he snapped. She stiffened but didn’t let go.

She had to restrain herself from apologizing for apologizing. “Teach me. Tell me, Win, make me understand. I can’t help my jealousy, but I won’t let it mess things up. I’ll try to control it, keep it under wraps. Just, don’t leave me, not right now,” she begged. “Don’t send me to Josh.”

He sagged in her arms with a sigh. “Sit, please. I’m not…I do not wish to speak of Stanis right now, but if you feed from me, I will tell you of the collar you wear.”

“You won’t leave?” she asked. She felt so pathetic, was it possible to be more lame?

He twisted in her arms so that he was facing her. Tentatively, he reached a finger to his collar, his touch sending a shock through it into her. Her eyes rolled back as he traced it, his emotions mingling confusingly with hers. “Bite me, Seneca.”

She moaned, unable to resist when he spoke to her in that tone. She leaned forward on her tiptoes and nuzzled his neck before sinking her fangs into his overly warm skin. He moaned, collecting her as she climbed up his body to catch his rich, thick blood. She lost herself to the pleasure of his blood in her mouth and his arms around her, only partially aware as he moved them back to the cushions. Everything was right for just a moment as his blood seeped into her mouth. She swallowed it and more moved into replace it. During her time drinking him, he had sat down, though she was only vaguely aware of it.

She pulled back when it burned through her veins, though not in a bad way. She closed up the punctures and leaned back, his arms cradling her as she rode the high that his blood gave her.

Without opening her eyes she fell forward, pressing herself against him, her core warm and wet and aching, though she didn’t actually want to have sex. That was a lie, she totally wanted him, she just wanted to listen to him talk about himself more. She wanted to be closer to him, to have him here, even if it wasn’t permanent.

“When a SynLilin child, succubus or incubus, comes of age,” he began, still holding her in his arms, “we are required to make a collar. Just one, made of an alloy of our choice. We are taught several ways to make collars, several materials and several methods of synthesizing in our formative years. Each SynLilin collar is unique, one of a kind, though many tend to be of one or two specific patterns.”

He trailed off, his fingers smoothly running up and down her back. No, not his real fingers, those were still laced together over her butt. Spectral fingers ghosted over her body. She didn’t realize how much she missed feeling Godwin like this, through his blood. She wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it, he was lost in thought.

“I have always been very good with my hands and-”

Seneca couldn’t help herself as she laughed out loud.

“What?” he asked, her with a snort.

“You’re good with your hands,” she said, a smile on her face for the first time in hours. “Yeah you are.”

He chuckled. “I would be a poor incubus if I weren’t good with my hands, hansa,” he agreed, catching her ear in his teeth and biting gently. She giggled, feeling good in his arms.

“You’re a very good incubus,” she said, feeling silly and playful all of a sudden, his blood warming her from the inside.

He kissed her head. “I was referring to my crafting skills in this case, you naughty, interrupting vampire.” His tone changed as he resumed his story. “I was under the impression that the three years it took most people to forge their collar was a dramatic overstatement of the actual required time. In my youth, I did not understand the significance of the creation of such an item, nor the meaning behind each step, although instruction had been provided on each.”

“My first collar was a complete failure. I was cocky and self assured. By design it was perfect, as I mentioned, I am skillful with crafting and smithing, those things have always come easy to me. When I tried to bond it to myself, it made me sick for weeks, and the collar melted in the process. I had failed. My first collar took me one month to craft.

“My arrogance is not unique among SynLilin. We are beautiful, selfish creatures by nature. Though I refused to believe it at the time, failure is a common step in the creation process of a collar, though it is never told to students.”

“Why not? Couldn’t they have just told you so you wouldn’t have messed it up?” she asked, shifting out of his arms so his erection wouldn’t distract her from his story. She snuggled up against his body and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his warmth.

“It is our arrogance, hansa. Even if you had told me when I was fifteen, I already believed I knew everything, that something as simple as a metal collar would be an easy task. Is it not the same with adolescents in this realm?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He nodded. “So, my first collar was a complete failure, and worse then some, for I ended up incapacitated for several weeks after my attempted fusion.”

“Fusion?” she asked, feeling like she missed something.

“Ah, it is complicated and personal.” He hesitated and she felt bad for asking something that she perhaps shouldn’t have. “No, please no guilt. I will speak of it because I want you to understand why I felt so when you dismissed the value of your collar.”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m-”

He interrupted her with a kiss. “What did I say about apologizing, hansa? You have nothing to apologize for, you did not know. I will remedy that now, be patient.”

She kissed him back, his tongue delving into her mouth. “You taste like vanilla,” she whispered.

He smiled and pulled away. “You taste like blood.”

She smiled with embarrassment and pulled away from him, hiding her face in his shoulder.

“So, my first collar was a spectacular failure. I was absolutely convinced that I most certainly was behind other students my age at this point. I learned later that this was all part of the process, and that I was not so far off schedule. Regardless, I was humiliated, my foundation destroyed, for as I stated, I have always been good at crafting. This struck a blow to my ego. Instead of giving up, I started again, this time from the basics. I chose my materials with care, forged carefully and methodically. When I was finished, the collar was very utilitarian, but completely perfect by standard. Yet, when it was time to complete the fusion, again the collar rejected me. It was not so bad as the first time, I was not injured, but the blow to my pride was monumental.

“I was devastated. I had followed directions to the letter, meticulously completing each stage by the book. How could I still have failed? As much as it pained me, I decided to ask my parents for advice.”

“A teenage boy asking for help? Preposterous!” she teased.

“Very much so,” he agreed, slowly stretching out his bad knee. “And yet, I survived. Imagine that. My mother asked of my methods and listened as I described each stage of the process. She said nothing, never interrupted or interjected a method to adjust my work, just listened with a smile that said she knew everything I did not.”

“It burned me up, that smile, that look on her face, and I stormed away from her, believing that she was only patronizing me. My anger burned and I did a shameful thing, something I am not proud of admitting.”

There was a stretch of silence and she didn’t want to push him. He seemed to be thinking about how to explain it to her. She shifted off his lap, leaning forward, massaging his bad leg, running her hands over his strong thigh and down to his knee. She could feel the scar tissue through the cloth of his suit. He stiffened at her touch, a strange look on his face. As she began pressing her fingers into the muscles he moaned softly, leaning back into the cushions and letting her work. He closed his eyes, relaxing completely under her attentions.

She didn’t know how many minutes went by in silence as she massaged his thigh. Had he fallen asleep? “Does this feel good?”

“Mmm,” he mumbled pleasurably without opening his eyes.

“You know, if you took your pants off this would be even more effective,” she said after a few more minutes of silence.

“Hmm…are you attempting to seduce an incubus?” he asked her, that slappable smile on his lips.

“No! I mean, I just, your leg, that’s all!”

He snickered softly. His eyes still shut, he reached out and grabbed her hands, lifting them from his body. He used his other hand, and with a sweep of his hands he was naked. The next moment he an incubus in his full glory, his wings tucked neatly beneath him, small black horns peeking out from his soft black hair, nearly camouflaged. She blushed at the sight of his large, semi-soft member resting like ripe fruit between his legs. His eyes were still closed.

“Continued, hansa. I am now as you requested,” he muttered.

“I only asked for you to take your pants off!” she exclaimed, blushing furiously.

“Only?” he repeated, his cock twitching.

“Weren’t you telling a story?” she asked, digging her fingers back into the muscles of his thigh. His skin was so warm and solid beneath her fingers, it sent a thrill through her. She watched his manhood out of the corner of her eye, trying, and failing, to not let it distract her.

“My failure, and my…indiscretion. Yes. So, it matters not what I did, just that I did something quite abusive to my station.”

“What did you do, Godwin?” she inquired.

He shifted uncomfortably beneath her and she stayed her fingers. “Please, do not stop, it feels delightful. I did not wish to tell you. Perhaps I am now understanding your earlier emotions towards me.” He sighed heavily, his tail tapping the floor, the black tip of it clicking rhythmically. “I, ah, started an orgy.”

“You started an orgy? That’s your indiscretion?” she asked. “That’s bad? Isn’t that, like, what incubus and succubus are best at?”

Godwin’s chuckle was strained. “SynLilin are emotional manipulators, and occasionally orgies are requested, but they are never forced. I went into a neighboring city and unleashed my frustrations, creating an orgy, and I participated. For three days without restraint, without rest. The unleashed power of an adolescent incubus is nothing compared to a mature adult, but it is still powerful, and it had behind it my frustrations of failure and contempt.”

“So what, people had sex with each other for three days? I thought sex wasn’t vilified by SynLilin.”

“It is not, but what I did was egregious. When under the unbridled influence of SynLilin, people desire nothing other than carnal actions. They do not eat, they do not drink, they do nothing but copulate until exhaustion or until they are released. Under my influence, creatures could literally copulate to death. Thankfully, I was stopped before it was taken that far.”

“My mother found me on the morning of the third day, exhausted and dehydrated. I have never felt the shame my mother made me feel that day with just a single look of disappointment. She helped me release the people under my influence and I spent another year and three days paying them back for my crimes, working for them, both manual labor and mood manipulation, before I was forgiven.”

“A whole year?” she asked, completely taken aback.

“I was lucky they did not seek prosecution. I could have been sold into slavery to another Duke or Dutchess of Legion. My mother was well regarded for her philanthropic nature in our region, and I owe her a debt I shall never be able to repay.”

Seneca motioned for him to roll over, but his eyes were still shut. “Roll over and I’ll rub the back of your thigh,” she said, patting his leg. He turned over, his wings still pressed firmly to his back. It was amazing how compact he could make them, they seemed so much smaller when they were folded. She missed seeing his strong back, yet longed to touch the smooth, leathery folds of his wings.

Her eyes trailed down to his tail. It was strange, yet it appeared so natural, sprouting out just above the cleft of his ass. Her eyes followed it down to the tip, curled up closer to his forearms, which he now had tucked under his head like a pillow.

She returned her gaze to his perfect, bronzed ass. Her fingers were trailing over his back before she could stop herself, feeling the flesh where his tail met his body. Godwin’s tail lashed out, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her hand away. “I thought you were going to massage the back of my thigh?” he asked, his tail holding her hand back.

She giggled, longing to catch his tail in her mouth but restraining herself. “I am,” she insisted, digging her fingers into the muscle there. He moaned and his tail slid from her arm, coming to rest in her lap. As she dug her fingers into the scarred tissue his tail flicked, reminding her of Shack’s tail when he allowed her to pet him.

“When I came back home my mother set me down and asked me if I had learned anything about what it meant to manipulate emotions non-consensually. From working with those people, I learned who they were, and I regretted my actions incredibly. Babies were conceived from that event, and some of those babies were aborted. Relationships had been ruined, marriages destroyed, Deava filled with heartbreak and pain. Despite all the bad, there was good that came from it, too. New relationships forged, families brought together. I told my mother all of this.

“Lower, please, yes, that right there,” he instructed her, breaking away from his monologue.

“What did she say, your mother?” Seneca asked, digging her fingers into his scarred flesh, enjoying the feel of it beneath her fingers, pleased that she could make him feel good.

“She told me that the reason I failed at making my collar was because I hadn’t been able to understand how my power would affect them. That, as I was forging my collar, I should visualize in my mind the kind of person I would desire to find myself bound to. To imagine how I would treat that person, who they would be to me.

“Any SynLilin can make a collar successfully without doing these things, but they would never understand the significance of collaring another, if and when they did. They would never know the joy of allowing another complete control over them.”

“Your mother sounds wise.”

Godwin exhaled loudly. “Even then I did not know how wise she was, not until I met you, and almost by chance. The inscription on my collar, halm lullinu bena ghanza an ghanza bena lullinu naiu, that was the lesson I learned. I serve you, hansa, and you have complete power over me, as bearer of my collar.

“We make only one. Physically, I can only bond one, even if the original is destroyed. To try again would destroy me, and I would never do it anyway, for once a heartstone is rejected, that is a blow one does not recover from. No, no one wore your collar before you, hansa. I have already told you, it will not come off easily, as well.”

She was blushing furiously with the intimacy of the situation. Her hands moved on their own up his thighs, and were massaging the orb of his left butt cheek now. He twisted around, watching her over his shoulder as she kneaded half of his perfect ass.

“You can do both sides if you like,” he suggested with that smile.

“I will,” she agreed, shifting so that she straddled his legs, plunging her right hand into his right cheek. He moaned and turned back around, resting his head in his arms. “You were talking about your collar.”

“Hmm…I was…” he sighed contentedly. “But then you started on my ass. I love what you are doing down there…”

“Win!” she exclaimed, reluctantly pulling her hands away.

“Very well, hansa, I cannot deny you. After my year and three days of service I returned, starting again from scratch. This time, though, when I spoke the words, they meant something. This time, when I chose my materials, chose my adornment and inscription, I chose them with you in mind, even though I had never met you. When it was finished, I had never been so proud, and so nervous, about something I had created. Again, in form it was perfect, very similar in design to my first two failures.”

“This one, though, the magic was there. When I performed my fusion I was so worried that it would fail again, yet it was an absolute success. What you wear around your neck, hansa, is my masterpiece, the work of which bears the significance of my being, and you wear it proudly. It is truly humbling.”

Her fingers trailed over the warm silvery collar and he shifted under her. She could feel his sincerity through the collar and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“What is fusion?” she asked, unable to stave off her curiosity.

“The gem contains my heart blood. Blood binds, and blood connects. It is the root of all magics, and heart blood is some of the most powerful. The gem in the back of your collar, I stabbed it into my heart.”

“Oh my god, didn’t that hurt?” she asked nervously. “Couldn’t that have killed you?”

“My first time it did hurt me. SynLilin instructors are familiar with the risks and are prepared for failure. If I had done it alone, I would have died the first time. But hansa, I am glad I failed, for the collar around your neck is the highest offering I can give to you. No one can love an incubus, for you may never know if I am influencing your emotions. But my collar around your neck is a dedication of myself to serve you. I did not offer it lightly, Seneca.”

“The minute I met you I knew it. That night, when we dined under the tree in the park and you fed me, I knew it. I could feel my collar, which I had not since my fusion nearly sixteen years prior. It called to me, but it called for you. I cannot explain it better.”

“The one thing I can tell you, it never called for any of my other lovers. Stanis never had a chance. I have a heart, but I cannot give it away, for no one could trust it was true. Instead, I have a collar, and though you wear the physical version, it represents that I have given you possession of myself. You control the blood of my heart, Seneca.”

“Godwin,” she said after a heavy pause, her fingers moving up from his ass to his lower back. She teased the skin around his tail and it flicked and twitched in her lap. “Thank you. I know you can’t believe it, but I do love you, and I don’t think you’re manipulating my emotions. I love you, Godwin Delange-Versi SynLilin. I will try to be worthy as the bearer of your collar.”

“Seneca, there was never a choice for me. As I said, from the moment I met you, I knew it had to be you. I had been prepared for the worst, for rejection. Occasionally that does transpire. I am grateful that it had not for us.”

Her fingers continued to dance over his back, but the base of his tail looked so biteable…she couldn’t help herself. She leaned down and nibbled the soft skin where his tail sank into his back.

He jumped up, flipping them both over quickly, his wings flaring out around them. “What a naughty vampiress,” he said, pulling her into his lap. “Don’t you know not to tease an incubus by his tail?”

He kissed a trail down from her ear to her collarbone, nipping her sensitive skin with his teeth every few bites. She moaned as he pressed his erection between her legs. “Apparently not,” she breathed out, wrapping her arms around him. She pulled her hands down his back, nails grazing his skin. He growled when she wrapped her hand around the base of his tail. “I must have missed that day in school.”

“Then should I teach you?” he threatened sweetly in her ear.

“Oh, yes,” she agreed. “I love learning new things.”

The Game Chapter 21: Blue Ribbons

The Game Chapter 23: Don’t tease an Incubus